Free Commissioned In White (Art of Love Series) by Donna McDonald Page B

well, but she’s surpassed even what I thought she could do.”
    “Bet you haven’t seen much of Carrie lately either,” Drake said, watching the three women chatting and smiling at each other. Jessica was gesturing and Brooke seemed to be correcting every other thing that was said. He almost wanted to laugh.
    “I miss my wife even more than my brother,” Michael said sincerely. “But I promised her my support, and here I am.”
    “You’re a good man for that, Larson,” Drake said, grinning. “I bet you’re not noble very often.”
    “Hell no,” Michael agreed, liking the way Drake laughed at his emphatic statement.
    He watched fascinated as Brooke broke off from the group to walk slowly toward them. First he felt Drake tense, then he saw the man retreat as far inside himself as he could go until his eyes were emerald stone chips. Brooke, on the other hand, didn’t seem overly fazed by Drake’s presence, or his withdrawal.
    Michael snorted at the dueling dance of their gazes doing surveillance of each other’s body language. He didn’t need Shane to point out the obvious interest they had for each other. They looked ready for some sort of action—the question was what. Because he was interested in finding out, he wickedly smiled at both of them in warning before firing off the first verbal shot over their heads.
    “Hey, sis,” Michael said casually. “How’d the bikini waxing go for Mom?”
    Brooke spurted a greeting and laughed, not dignifying the horrible question with an acknowledgement.
    To Michael’s consternation, Drake flushed again at his teasing question. He wanted to laugh harder at the man’s lack of ability to deal with his bohemian family, but didn’t want to risk emasculating him more in front of Brooke. It was just surprising that a man who painted nudes as well Barrymore did, could be so prudish in reality.
    “Mom wondered if you could go by the house later and pick up the two glass vaginas she made for the opening,” Brooke said, directing the statement to Michael. “I’d do it myself, but I have to take Mom for her final fitting and to pick up her dress. Her MOH is on her way back from her honeymoon today, but the return flight got changed. I cancelled my classes to step in for Susan.”
    “Is Dad too busy to bring them by the gallery?” Michael asked on a laugh. “I know how he possessive he feels about Jessica’s vaginas.”
    “Will is over at the café helping plan the reception tomorrow,” Brooke said on a sigh. “We could bring the pieces in next week, but Carrie—your organizing fiend of a wife—wants everything in place before the weekend. She said she needs a few days to script out her walk-through, and practice her sales pitches. She’s already ticked that Shane hasn’t come by yet to bless the collage prints she stole from him. She has twenty prints picked out, but still has to frame and hang the work. She says his collage piece will take two days to complete.”
    Michael’s affectionate gaze went to his wife, who had finally slipped down into a guest chair and motioned Jessica onto a bench near her. “I’m afraid to leave Carrie alone when she’s this sick.”
    “I can help. Where are the vagin—the art pieces that need to be picked up?” Drake said, correcting himself. There was no need to be crass. “I can probably collect the pieces and bring them back here today, if someone can meet me at the location to let me in.”
    “Has it been so long since you saw a real vagina that you can’t even bring yourself to say the proper name?” Brooke demanded, sending a smiling challenge in Drake’s direction.
    At her rebuke, Drake’s face flooded with even more color than Michael’s comments had put there. His discomfort only lasted for the three seconds it took him to decide he’d had enough of Brooke Daniels’ harassment. She had barely had two civil words of any sort for him in all the time he’d known her. That had been blatantly obvious the day